


Don't call me Joel

by dorking



Series: McReyes shorts [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, Canon-Typical Violence, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Past Violence, slight romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:32:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9634871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorking/pseuds/dorking
Summary: Jesse McCree doesn't have a care in the world.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to explore Jesse's past?

Gabriel Reyes wasn't quite sure what to make of Jesse McCree the first time they met.

A point of amusement between them now, Reyes recalled _Chucky_ coming to mind in the moment. Forget a grin, the kid had a whole shit-eating face and a glare with enough acid to burn through your skull. Of course Jesse McCree didn't need a scowl to kill you, he'd normally let his gun do that job. Reyes sensed a familiar rage simmering underneath the wide brim of that god-awful cowboy hat. Jesse had a reputation after all. Still, there was something contrived about that _look_ , about Jesse's whole _convict_ persona. Initially he'd pinned Jesse's violent callousness as a front; in the end he'd only been right about the glare. Jesse has always smiled easily. But the kid never did quite drop that crude _impishness_ once he adapted to his role in Blackwatch. It had to come from somewhere. Even though he didn't suit being a criminal like Gabriel guessed, there was still some raw wound unhealed inside Jesse McCree. Gabriel saw it open every now and then when on a mission, something inside that smiling brat was just a little too violent. A little too cruel. It almost scared Gabriel that he empathized completely.

 

* * *

 

 

_As a kid everyone called him J.J._

_Whether that stood for "Joel Junior" or "Joel Jesse", McCree wasn't quite sure. He'd been named after both his parents; "Joel McCree" and "Jessie McCree". It seemed like them to come up with something as uninspired as it was._

_He had very few memories of a childhood, there was just time in between existing at home or at school. His father was a farmer, a rancher, and a drunk. The only useful thing he ever taught Jesse was how to shoot. They shot everything on their property. Sometimes, Joel McCree would take his son out on 'expeditions'. They'd shoot anything, birds, coyotes, hares, stray dogs, and cats. "Gotta shoot the strays J.J., gotta keep the peace", he'd always say._

_At some point, he'd asked for his father to stop. Too many dead animals. Too many times he'd come home to his mother sopping up the blood of her split lip, her bruised face._

_It never stopped. Jesse just stopped caring._

 

* * *

   
Gabriel Reyes was going to meet Jesse McCree. Oddly, he found himself uncharacteristically concerned once the opportunity was immediate.

Reyes wasn't a nervous man. However, he was never as adept at socializing like Jack was. In a sense, though he was an excellent leader, he wasn't fully confident in his ability to take on the role of a teacher. He knew there would be work to do, even if the kid was as great a shot and soldier as rumoured. McCree was a going to be a challenge, and all of Overwatch would be watching him. Reyes was simply determined to display his proficiency in all areas, motivated by his professional rivalry with Jack. Regardless, he knew if the kid had been worthless, he wouldn't have swallowed his apprehensions and taken him under his wing. He would never waste his time. He went into this confident in Jesse's potential.

Although Gabriel oversaw the operations involved with the sting that busted Jesse, he wasn't present during the actual arrest. Part of him wished he'd been there. Apparently the kid was all cuss, spit, and thrashing limbs; up until the exact point where his ultimatum was presented. It would have been sweet justice for Reyes to see that decision stew on Jesse's face. Retribution for that killer stink eye he shot Gabriel during their first encounter.

 _"The name is Jesse Mother-Fuckin' McCree"_ the words seethed through his gritted teeth _"Don't call me Joel like you know me",_ pure poison oozing out of his every pore.

Still, Reyes never took the first few months personally. He knew Jesse was only angry at himself for getting caught. The kid stopped lashing out pretty soon. 

It worried Gabriel that Jesse always carried an air of loose recklessness. The kid had started with a youthful delusion of immortality, carefree and calculating; a combination that Gabriel identified as a denial of deeply rooted suicidal ideation. Apathy for life and a knack for violence. Without dissipating completely, it did get better over Jesse's time in Blackwatch. Gabriel found himself proud.

 

* * *

 

_Jesse McCree's life was simple._

_When he was fourteen, they called him 'Care-free McCree'. It was true, he didn't have a care in the world._

_He was the happiest kid in town._

_But happy kids don't just up and join gangs._

_In reality, Jesse didn't care about living, didn't care about going to school, and he didn't care about falling in with the wrong crowd. The Deadlock tattoo on his back, the one he got at fifteen, meant he didn't even care about dying._

_The only motivation Jesse had was to take his mother, and move away from that god forsaken ranch house. Move away from the rule of his father and his scrutinizing fist. Deadlock provided the promise of good consistent money. He could do that small favour for his mother if he just stuck to his gang, even if he was a low level member_.

 

* * *

   
Time passed, Gabriel saw improvement in Jesse, that potential nursed solely by his guidance. He saw abilities in Jesse that Jesse didn't see in himself.

Jesse McCree was no longer a kid, he was Gabriel's understudy, his apprentice. Jesse's awkward recklessness transformed into lithe, brutal actions; muscle and brown dusty hair. However, the cynicism persisted for too long after. Much to Gabriel's dismay, Jesse remained fairly petulant, albeit with a few more saving graces; some being qualities that Gabriel wasn't quite ready to admit. Graces that could never take form in the shape of words or feelings or actions. That raw wound inside of Jesse was healing. With it Gabriel saw life rekindle in the once dry brush of Jesse McCree's soul. There was a fire burning for justice. It scorched Gabriel's face at the mere sight of it.

It scared Gabriel to think, to look, at the _situation_ that way. He knew Jesse wasn't particular about the _company_ he kept, but it wasn't in his interest to betray their professional relationship. 

He didn't want Jesse to know.

He didn't want to care that way.

 

* * *

   
  
_When Jesse was sixteen, he loaded his things into his fathers red truck, grabbed his mother, and drove off into the dawn. They weren't going too far from Deadlock territory, and Jesse figured they were going somewhere safe. He had an unbridled confidence in his act of heroism. It was the one right thing he was going to do in his life._  
  
_Things were going to get better, he promised her._

_It was one of the only times he could remember her smiling._

 

* * *

   
_"Shit"_

Someone was speaking Spanish. The voice was too distant for Jesse to know who was talking.  
  
_"Christ Jesse, your stomach...Christ, your arm!"_

Jesse couldn't feel his left arm. But his right was grasping for anything to cling onto. Something that could bring him back into focus. His eyes darting, dilated. Lungs gasping,

 _ah, I'm hyperventilating_.

His hand came into contact with a shoulder, he clutched it. He went to speak but instead blood poured through his teeth.

" _Just don't, just don't._  You're going into shock. Ziegler is coming. Don't say anything"

There was a rapid breathing in his chest, but his heart, well it was beating mighty slow. 

_Hey, is that you, boss? I'm feeling real cold._

The cowboy could feel his stream of consciousness fading in and out. Vibrant images of his life flickering before his eyes, playing like a silent film projected over Gabriels darkened face.

Jesse thought of his mother, the last time he saw her alive he hadn't been home for three days. Her body was a clean slaughter. One shot between her brow, just a note and his fathers gun on the kitchen table.

 

**'Should have kept the peace J.J.'**

 

What a failure. He distinctly remembered acknowledging that he wanted to die, right then. It was the first time he admitted it to himself.

Reyes came back into his vision. They made eye contact. Jesse felt in that moment he'd never quite appreciated that cold, and intensely passionate, look Gabriel only directed at him. It made Jesse feel alive. Now, it seemed like a waste.

_I think I'm going Reyes_

Gabriel's grip tightened on his body. Blinking rapidly, Jesse shuddered involuntarily. Closing his eyelids, he began to slip into that icy dark. That silent film had reached the end of its reel.

_Happy that it's you seeing me off I s'pose_

Blood was pooling in his mouth, but still he managed his best smile for Gabriel.

 

* * *

The robotic arm was an ugly replacement for what used to be there.

  
Reyes couldn't bring himself to leave Jesse alone; so long as that meant he stayed on the other side of the room, and Jesse was asleep. Morrison told him it wasn't his fault, but damn, how could it not be? Jesse was his charge, his student. Jesse had become everything good left in Reyes, he could see that now. He couldn't believe he'd let him get that close to death. The mission went wrong in every way possible, it was humiliating. Every morning, if he'd slept, Gabriel woke awash with new guilt and new shame. That kid who had come into his life, so willing to die for hardly a reason, had a second chance. Gabriel gave that to him, and he'd nearly let it slip away. He knew he'd barely be able to form an apology; Jesse wouldn't blame him.

"Aren't you looking grimmer than a reaper"

Gabriel jerked awake. He'd dozed off on the arm chair inside Jesse's hospital room. He couldn't help but scowl grouchily, it was embarrassing to have fallen asleep in front of someone. Especially Jesse. Gabriel made sure to compose himself in an aloof a manner as possible, striding briskly to the side of Jesse's bed; just about an arms length away in distance. "These things happen, McCree", it was about as stiff and unfeeling a sentiment he could muster. "You'll get used to the new machinery", Gabriel gestured to Jesse's new arm.

Jesse had an irritatingly unfazed smile playing on his lips as he flexed, opening and closing his mechanical fingers. "S'all right I s'pose"

Gabriel stilled himself, he got the feeling Jesse knew he'd been camping out in his room. The silence between them was growing awkward, so Reyes moved to leave. Jesse caught his arm in a loose grip, and when Reyes turned back with a look caught between incredulity and fear, McCree grinned,

"Thanks for saving my life, boss"

There was a puppy-dog expression in his eyes, a sincerity that caused an ache to shoot painfully through Gabriel's heart. Reyes could feel the hair on his arm raising as Jesse's contact heated up their skin. He was uncomfortable. Jesse could tell. Reyes pressed his lips tight as that shit-eating smirk began winding it's way into the gunslingers beard. He jerked his arm back from the offensively intimate gesture.

"I nearly got you killed", there, he said it.

Jesse leaned back into his hospital bed, un-breaking eye contact, expression as unforgivably affable as always.

  
"I got better things to care 'bout, Reyes"

 

 


End file.
